


Through the Screen

by Ladyofthedi



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-02 04:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12720117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyofthedi/pseuds/Ladyofthedi
Summary: Alistair (somewhere in the middle of DAO) suddenly finds himself in modern day Southern California. Main character Corinne, a nerdy gamer, has to find a way to send him home.Possible setup for a part 2, if there's interest/inspiration. :)





	Through the Screen

Corinne took a long drink from her coffee mug, wishing it were something stronger. She sighed.  _ When will I finally get to relax? _ she wondered.  _ The weeks are feeling longer and longer…and even the weekends are too busy, lately. _ She shook her head. She knew she had done this to herself.  _ I just need to learn to say no sometimes…But then I feel like I'm letting them down.  _ She frowned, then sighed again.

She knew she was pushing herself too hard. Late nights, working overtime every day, constantly rushing to rehearsals and appointments, drinking way too much coffee… and then a drink (or two) nearly every night; though she kept telling herself, "it's just to relax and help me sleep." She was starting to forget what her house even looked like, she was there so infrequently. And the worst part was that none of it was fulfilling anymore; she wasn't enjoying the excitement of photo shoots, getting dolled up and going out with the girls, or even performing. She was becoming numb to all of it.  _ Well, numb to everything except for the anxiety, _ she corrected herself. Anxiety about the dance routines, the costumes, the hair. Anxiety about arriving on time and prepared. Anxiety about what people thought of her: co-workers, producers, even the girls on her team. She seemed to be worried about everything, all the time, now.

_ To be fair, _ she reminded herself,  _ I've always been a worrier. _ She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall behind her, and thought back to her high school and college days. She didn't miss them, certainly. But she had thought that moving would be the fresh start she needed to get past all of the anxiety and negativity from her old life. She had blamed it all on where she grew up: the fact that there was no privacy there, no anonymity, and everyone knew your business. At nearly the age of thirty, she had known there were no new people to meet, there was nothing new to discover, and there was nowhere to escape that crushing sense of defeat and failure. And so she had finally gritted her teeth, found a new job and moved to the big city, with a promise to herself of a better life and an escape from all of that negativity.

_ So why am I still so anxious? It's not like I can pick up and move away every time I feel like this,  _ she scolded herself.  _ Why can't I just push through and get over it?  _ She knew it wasn't that simple, even though everyone else seemed to think it was. She shrugged, chewing on her lip, drawing blood again. All the while telling herself how stupid she was being.  _ What can I say? Being self-destructive is my forte… _

… 

She sat in the break room, browsing the internet on her phone, searching for inspiration.  _ I  _ **_need_ ** _ to draw something! _ But she didn't know what. She knew she needed practice if she was going to get any better. This was true of all of her hobbies; but she never seemed to have the time to invest, or if she did, she lacked the motivation.

_ Not today, _ she told herself.  _ Today will be different. _ She stopped and thought for a moment. She started daydreaming about Alistair again… That video game had sucked up so much of her already-too-little free time, but it had been a welcome relief from the stress.  _ Maybe I can draw _ **_him_ ** _ ,  _ she mused _. It's not like he can get mad at me if it comes out looking terrible. _ She started narrowing her search.  _ There's so much amazing fan art out there already… I feel so far behind. _ She shook her head. There was no reason to quit before she even got started.

She scrolled through the pictures and GIFs and smiled. Alistair had been one of her favorite characters since she had started playing the game  Dragon Age: Origins several years ago. She'd even had a running joke with her last boyfriend that she was going to leave him for Alistair one day. It wasn't just because Alistair was attractive, although he definitely was. It wasn't even his smooth voice, complete with a heart-melting English accent. No, what really drew her to him was the way he was written; he was funny and somewhat sarcastic, but also adorably innocent and charming. He had that sweet side that gave her butterflies, and although she knew he was considered somewhat 'whiny' by other gamers, she had always appreciated that he was written as a man who allowed himself to _ feel things. _ Thinking back on her last boyfriend, she could see why that was so appealing to her. She had never understood why people kept their emotions bottled up; that was what had caused her last relationship to deteriorate until it became irreconcilable.

She shook her head. She wasn't going to waste more time thinking about the past. She checked the clock; her break was already over. "Never enough time," she sighed, and made her way back to her desk.

… 

_ Five o'clock! _ She was nearly running for the door. Clicking off the lights and locking the doors behind her, she rushed to call the elevator, checked her phone. 5:01pm. She tapped her foot, waiting for freedom. She had plans again tonight; just like every night, lately. Always in a hurry. But at least it was Friday, and this time she was free after 7:00 for the entire weekend. She felt like an old geezer, but she found herself just wanting to be at home in the evenings more and more. At home, she could wear whatever she wanted, play video games, draw, sing at the top of her lungs, or just zone out. She was living just waiting for those moments that she didn't have to be "on." They seemed so few and far between.

The elevator opened, and she stepped in and pressed the button for the lobby. She hoped they weren't going to have to stop on every floor on the way down, even though she knew it didn't make much of a difference in the long run. She just wanted to get to Cherie's house, style her hair for a wedding, and go home.

"Finally," she breathed. "I'm almost free and clear."

It was probably for the best that she had no idea what was coming.

… 

Corinne pulled into her parking space, breathed one last sigh of relief, and got out of the car. As she walked up the stairs to her front door, she realized that with the humidity from the incoming storm it was going to feel like a hundred degrees in her tiny, metal-roofed trailer.  _ Well, hopefully it will cool down quickly _ , she thought, unlocking the door and slipping into the muggy heat. She turned the air conditioner on full blast.  _ At least I don't have to wear pants _ .

She flung her work clothes over a kitchen stool, too lazy to walk to the bedroom in the back of the house. She basked in the moment in spite of the heat and mixed herself a cold drink. She stood in her underwear in the kitchen, sipping the cocktail, leaning on one hand on the counter.  _ I earned this… but now, what should I do?  _ She looked around. Her sewing pile stared back at her from the hallway. "No," she said out loud. "There will be no more work today. No more projects for other people, and nothing productive." She looked over the counter into the living room, saw the Xbox and smiled. "Hello, darling," she murmured.

…

It was after midnight, the thunderstorm was raging outside, and Corinne was still playing  Dragon Age: Origins . She had been attempting to romance a different character this time; the flirtatious elf, Zevran. But as soon as Alistair started flirting with her, she caved in like always. He just knew how to push her buttons, fictional though he was.

She had finally made it to her favorite scene: Alistair was confessing his feelings and asking to spend the night together. He was nervous, sweating, and adorable as always. Corinne's breathing quickened, and her heart raced as the thunder rumbled outside. How could she have such strong feelings about someone who wasn't even real? For the moment, she didn't care. She had to get her jollies from somewhere, didn't she? And this way, at least, she couldn't get hurt… 

Suddenly, there was flash of lightning, a clap of thunder, and an explosion in her living room tore her from her reverie. She yelped, sparks and glass flying around her. She pulled the pillow on her lap in front of her face to fend off the debris, and then there was darkness.

_ What the hell just happened?  _ She moaned, her skin stinging with cuts from the glass and blind as a bat in the sudden blackness.  _ At least nothing is on fire, or there would be some light... _ She groped around for her phone to turn use as a flashlight. There it was; she unlocked the screen and raised her arm to light the room.

The television was completely destroyed, only a twisted mess remaining; it looked like the source of the explosion.  _ Did lightning hit my house? _ she wondered.  _ Was it the antenna on the roof?  _ She looked briefly around the rest of the room, using her phone as a flashlight to survey the damage from her spot on the couch. None of the other appliances or electronics appeared to be damaged. She lit up the floor, cringing at the thought of walking over broken glass in her bare feet. Then she noticed a mound on the floor.  _ What on earth...? _

The mound let out a low groan.

She sat straight up, panic gripping her.  _ There's a man in my house… _ She suddenly remembered her scant attire, and flushed. _ What do I do? _ She was too terrified to move, her phone still lighting up the floor. The crumpled figure on the floor began to stir.

"Maker's breath," she heard a low voice mumble. She blinked, startled.  _ No, that can't be what I heard… _ She jerked herself back to her senses and dimmed her phone; the darkness surrounded them. She started inching her way over the back of the couch, quietly, hopefully away from the broken glass and the strange man in her living room.

"Is someone there?" the voice asked. She stopped, not even breathing.  _ I must have been knocked out, I'm dreaming, _ she thought,  _ but I swear that voice is Alistair’s...  _ But that was impossible. _ I hope I don't have a concussion or something…  _

She managed to get over the back of the couch, hardly breathing. She found her clothes on the stool where she'd flung them earlier, and started pulling on her slacks.  _ If I'm going to die, murdered in my own home, I'm not dying in my underwear.  _

The man stood. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness enough to make out that he was a fairly tall, imposing figure. Of course, most people appeared tall to her, but that wasn't really a comfort in this situation. She pulled her tank top over her head and inched her way towards the baseball bat she kept hidden by the front door, next to the fridge. She wrapped her fingers around the handle as the figure rubbed his head, pained. He peered in her general direction through the darkness. 

"I'm sorry, but… where am I?" he asked in that voice that made her weak in the knees. "I was outside just a moment ago… " Her heart was flip-flopping, and the adrenaline was making her hands shake. She was frightened, but at the same time she wished that the voice she was hearing could really be her Alistair. 

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice wavering. "How did you get in my house?" 

"I have no idea, my lady. I was hoping you might tell me." He stopped, then stammered, "I mean, I do know _ who _ I am. Forgive me, I seem to have landed on my head." He smiled, she could just make out in the darkness. "My name is Alistair, of the Grey Wardens. Might I have your name?”

Her jaw dropped; she was stunned for a moment.  _ This is not possible, this is not possible… I'm dreaming. Or I've just finally lost it.  _ Her mind was spinning, thinking every possible realistic (and unrealistic) scenario of what could really be happening: this could be hallucination due to sleep deprivation, or she had drunk way more than she thought she had; or maybe she was really dead from the explosion and this was somehow the afterlife, or the Fade.

He looked towards her through the darkness. "Or… not?" He smiled again.

She blinked, shook herself, tried to get her wits about her. "I… I don't usually give my name to strangers," she forced out, "especially those who come into my home uninvited." There, she was standing her ground. She lifted her head up, feeling a tiny bit stronger. 

He smiled sheepishly. "I can't really blame you for that," he admitted. "I swear to you, this was not my intention. I truly have no idea how I arrived here." He took a step towards her, and she heard the clanking of his armor.  _ Wait, his armor? _ She shook her head again. If this were some prank, they would have had to go to a lot of trouble to make it this realistic.  _ Could this… really be happening?  _ She gripped the bat tighter. "My name is Corinne." 

It was his turn to shake his head in disbelief. "Corinne? …Corinne Cousland?"

She stared at him. She had named her character after herself- no points for creativity there. But the last name of her character- the one that he was just asking to spend the night with (before the explosion)- was Cousland. And hearing his voice actually saying her name gave her goosebumps. 

She shook herself again.  _ This is ridiculous, _ she thought. _ Get a hold of yourself. _ She took a deep breath. "Kind of…? I am… in a manner of speaking…" She was disconcerted, but she decided she needed to get a look at him before she could sort everything out. She tried the light switch beside her; dead. No electricity.  _ There go the groceries, _ she thought blandly, then shook her head.  _ Like that's the most urgent thing going on right now…  _

Alistair scratched his head. "I'm not sure that makes any sense, my lady. Even what with landing on my head." He shrugged, then looked around. "Are we safe here?" 

"Safer than where you’re from, I'm sure," she murmured. 

"You know where I came from? Then… we're not there now?" He frowned. "Please, tell me where I am." His voice became urgent. "I need to know, there are people I care about, and I… I fear for their safety." 

_ He means her… I mean, me?  _

She said slowly, "This might be… rather difficult to explain, and…” She gulped. “I would rather be able to see who I'm speaking with, before getting into it too deeply." She still needed to see his face, before she could believe this was real; she needed to be sure. 

"Yes, I believe that's for the best. Especially if you're claiming to be the Lady Cousland." His voice was colder now. He was worried, defensive.

Nervously, she stammered, "I said in a manner of speaking. I'm not from Ferelden; I just… just, hang on a minute.” She scrambled for her phone, lit up the screen to check the battery.  _ Thank goodness, 92% … good thing I'm obsessive about keeping it charged.  _

Alistair stepped back at the sudden beam of light. "Are you a mage?" he demanded, and she could see his hand reaching for the hilt of the sword strapped to his back.

"What? No!"  _ I should have thought of that… crap. _

"Then what is this source of light?" 

"It's a …lantern? Sort of."

He snorted.

"I know, I sound evasive, but just give me a minute,” she snapped. “Besides, you're the stranger who exploded into my living room," she reminded him. "I didn't exactly ask for this." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, walking backwards into the kitchen, bat still gripped in her other hand. Her adrenaline was pumping; she wasn't exactly being coherent. She wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. "Would you mind coming in here, so I can see your face?" 

He looked at her for a moment, then walked towards her. Everything in the room was mostly vague outlines, including his shadowy figure. He still looked like he could just be a dream. He stepped up to her, and she angled the light towards his face. He blinked in the brightness, but there was no doubt: this was Alistair Theirin. She stared at him for what felt like an hour, the only sound coming from the rain still pouring outside.  _ I can't believe this... _

He reached his hand over, slowly, and tilted the phone in her hand towards her own face. She looked down, suddenly shy. She had tried to customize her character to look like her, but it wasn't exactly a perfect resemblance. Would he recognize her as his Corinne? She looked up at him, unable to make out his expression behind the brightness from the phone. 

He suddenly looked down at the screen itself, and gasped. "What in the name of the Maker  _ is _ this?" He took the phone from her hand, studying it.

Corinne latched on to the opportunity to end the awkward silence. "It's called a cell phone. It's not magic, it's technology… a contraption, I guess?" She sighed. This was going to take a while. 

"Yes, well,” he said, “now that you've seen me, can you please tell me where I am?" He was calmer now, but still somewhat agitated. 

"Yes. Well. You're in… uh… the United States of America… in the state of California..." She paused, trying to think. She realized she was still clutching the baseball bat, and leaned it against the cabinet. She found it unlikely that she would be willing to use a bat on Alistair. 

"And exactly how far are we from Ferelden?" 

"I… don't know." He sighed, but she rushed on, "The thing is, I do know of Ferelden, but in my world it's… not real. It's a fictional place." He looked confused, her phone still lighting his features. She was having trouble focusing. "I… I think I need a drink." She moved along the counter and grabbed the bottle of wine she'd opened the night before, pulled a glass down from the cabinet. She stopped for a moment, then nervously asked, "Would you… like a glass of wine? You don't have to, I- I just feel like it would be rude not to offer." She turned her face away from the light, blushing.  _ Why are you so nervous?  _ she scolded herself.  _ This isn't a date! _

He was still standing where she'd left him, frozen. She realized too late that what she had said would probably, at best, be difficult to swallow. She poured a small glass of the wine, took a sip, and bit her lip. "So, here's what I know. I know that in this world, I can play a game and sort of… role play as a character. It's like hearing a story from a storyteller, but you actually have some control of where the story goes. I created a character named Corinne, and I  _ was _ her: making all the choices, having all of the conversations, and running the combat. I'm sure it sounds crazy, but I was the person you were talking to… behind the face of your Corinne Cousland." She was talking way too fast. She took another sip of wine. And then a gulp. She took another breath. "I don't know how you got here. You should have been just another character in this game, and I was having a conversation with you, just before…" 

He blushed. "You- you were there?" He stared at the phone in his hand. It dimmed, and Corinne reached out to touch the screen to keep it lit. He looked up at her, studying her. She looked down into the light, unable to meet his gaze. 

"I told you, I was the one having that conversation with you." 

He shook his head. "I'm having trouble… imagining that." He came in closer, looking at her intensely. Was he searching for his Lady in her face? She looked up, meeting his eyes this time.  _ Maybe he'll know me?  _ Her breath quickened, and she had to stop herself from nervously reaching for her wine. He suddenly turned away. "What do we do now?" he asked. "It's obviously late, and I will be unable to get my bearings until daylight. Unless what you say is true, and then…" He shrugged. "I think I need to rest."

Corinne suddenly jumped. "I'm so sorry, I should have asked if you're injured!" She reached to touch his arm, but drew her hand back. "I can try to help…?"

He shook his head. "But, now that you mention it, you have a number of cuts on your face, and your arms," he observed. "Are  _ you _ all right?" His voice was lower, more soothing. Maybe he felt guilty for being short with her before.

"To be honest, I'm not sure," she confessed. She hadn't had a moment to think about injuries- she’d had a fight or flight response, and only now was the exhaustion starting to set in. “I know that I can’t walk across the floor barefoot… all the broken glass…” She looked at the living room. It was a disaster. She sighed.  _ An expensive disaster, at that. _ She shook her head- there would be time to worry about that later. She took the last sip of wine, setting the glass by the sink. She sighed and leaned on the counter; she really was drained.

Alistair nodded. “Shall I assist you?” He held out his arms to carry her over the glass.

“Oh, ah, umm… I… that is, if you don’t mind… I’d hate to trouble you,” she babbled. Lord, she hated asking for help with anything. It made her feel like such an inconvenience, and poor Alistair was already inconvenienced enough, being stuck here with her.

He smiled, handed her the phone, and gathered her into his arms easily. “You’re not exactly a heavy load, you know.” He started towards the hall, traversing through the debris on the floor. 

“I’m so sorry about all this,” she mumbled, suddenly having trouble keeping her eyes open.

He shook his head. “I don’t believe this is your doing.” He sighed. “Perhaps this is just a dream, and I’ll wake up back in Ferelden.” She nodded. She half hoped he was right. 

He carried her into the bedroom and gently laid her on the bed, her phone falling to the floor.

She was asleep before her head touched the pillow. 

…

Corinne could hear the rain pounding on the roof.  _ I fell asleep in my work clothes again, _ she thought. _ Oh well. _ She opened her eyes, looked at the wall across from her. What a strange dream she’d had… she couldn’t remember all of it, but she knew Alistair was in it. She smiled. Those were her favorite dreams. 

Yawning, she rolled over and came face to face with: a sleeping Alistair. She gasped, and managed not to scream; but only just.  _ That… wasn’t a dream then. _ She looked at his face, and well, the rest of him. He had taken off his armor and stacked it in the corner, though how she’d slept through the clatter she couldn’t imagine. He was wearing some kind of long underwear, but no shirt.  _ He had nowhere else to sleep, _ she realized. The couch and entirety of the living room was covered in glass, and her tiny trailer had no floor space for a man his size, especially with all the furniture she had crammed in there. She was glad he hadn’t tried to sleep on the floor. Or maybe he had, and realized it was an exercise in futility. 

She got up, quietly, and grabbed her robe _. I need a shower, and I need to think. _ She paused; was the power still out? She tested the light switch: nothing.  _ Please, let it just be the breaker… _ She flipped the breakers, then made her way to the bathroom, and flicked the light switch. Success! She closed and locked the door, and grabbed her towel. As the water was heating up, she leaned her head against the wall.  _ What am I going to do? _ She needed to come up with a plan, and quickly. She had no idea how he got here, and no clue how to get him back to Thedas. She smiled to herself;  _ I’m such a nerd. _

Hopping out of the shower, she wrapped her hair in the towel and threw on her robe, looked in the mirror. Brushed her teeth. Her normal routine seemed so absurdly out of place right now. She threw on some makeup, chiding herself;  _ but, it's Alistair! In my bed! I've only been head over heels over him for years _ … She smiled guiltily; she couldn’t help but feed into her vanity a bit. Finally, she opened the door to the bathroom. 

Alistair was standing there, hand poised to knock. She jumped and closed her robe more securely.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he chuckled. She relaxed. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” she answered, a little breathlessly.  _ I still can’t believe he’s standing here in front of me… Even dirty and disheveled, he’s still incredibly good-looking. _

He cleared his throat. “I, ah, was hoping I could get cleaned up.” He looked around. “What was the sound I was hearing? A waterfall?” 

She laughed. “Here, let me get you set up with the shower.” She grabbed him a clean towel and started the water, making it not too hot, but not freezing, either. She grabbed the door handle and said, “Just let me know when you’re done, if you can’t figure out how to turn it off.” She looked at him, still undressed to the waist, and flushed as she pulled the door shut behind her. 

She looked down the hall and saw the glint of broken glass. She sighed, and walked into the bedroom to look for a good pair of shoes.

…

When Alistair exited the bathroom, he could hear a loud noise, some kind of music, and he smelled something brewing, but he had no idea what it could be. Peeking around the corner, he saw the young lady dancing around while apparently cleaning up the destruction from the night before. She was wearing short, tight-fitting clothes, and he averted his eyes, as he wasn’t used to seeing so much bare skin on a woman. She was pushing a large, unwieldy red box around the floor, which was apparently what the loud noise was coming from. It looked to be doing the job, though, as he couldn’t see any shards of glass on the floor. 

Corinne looked up and saw him peeking around the corner. She quickly turned off the vacuum cleaner, turned down the radio, and smiled. “Would you like some coffee?” 

“I’m… not sure,” he admitted. “I don’t know what that is.” 

“Oh, right. It’s something people here drink to wake up in the morning,” she explained. “It’s a little bitter, but if you want I can add cream and sugar to it?” 

“I don’t need cream and sugar,” he said confidently. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

She shrugged, and walked into the kitchen to pour him a mug. “Ok, then. It’s hot, though.”

He smelled it. It smelled good, kind of like vanilla, but not as sweet.  _ I’m sure it’s fine, _ he thought. He took a small sip, but it burned his tongue. He couldn’t taste anything. He set it down to wait for it to cool off a bit. “So…”

She came to the counter, refilled her own mug, and stood next to him. “So. You’re still wearing a towel, I see.” She smiled. 

“Yes, well, I didn’t have a chance to pack before I left. I suppose I was in a bit of a hurry.” He licked his lips, trying to keep a straight face. “I may just stick to wearing towels from now on, to be honest. They’re quite comfortable, you know.” 

She laughed. “Yes, I agree, but I think it might be… safer if we find you some new clothes.” She squinted her eyes, thinking for a moment. “I can run to the store to get some things for you; I don’t think you’ll fit in, in your armor.” 

“Yes… I can see that there are some differences in fashion, based on your attire.” He looked down at her clothes, and blushed again. “Is this, uh, usual clothing for women here?” 

She looked down at herself. She was wearing pajama shorts and a tank top, with a sports bra underneath. “No, these would be my pajamas. I wear other clothes outside.” She sipped her coffee. “I’ll make some breakfast and then go shopping…” She looked him up and down. “But I’ll need to take your measurements.” 

He jumped. “What? Why?”  _ Are men’s clothes as revealing as women’s clothes here? _ He hoped not.

“Because I don’t know what size you wear. I’m not familiar with buying men’s clothes.” She frowned. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to buy most of them at the thrift store, just so I can afford a few changes for you. I’m not sure how long you’ll be… stuck here.” She offered an apologetic smile. “I promise, I’ll get you something nice. Something you’ll be comfortable in.”

He could tell that she was making an effort to put him more at ease, and smiled appreciatively at her.  _ She’s trying so hard,  _ he thought.  _ I must be something of an inconvenience to her.  _ “I appreciate your efforts, Lady.” As she walked into the living room, he looked over at the husk of twisted metal and plastic next to her. “What was that?” 

She stopped digging through a box and looked up. “That used to be my TV. Just think of it as a larger version of that,” she said, pointing at her phone. “That’s what I was watching when everything exploded.” She had her measuring tape out, and held it up. “May I?”

“Uh, yes.” He started to hold his arms out, then the towel started to slip. He fumbled for it, catching it before it slipped too far. “Ah, maybe not.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry, I just need vague measurements for the most part.” She wrapped her arms around him to get the tape measure around his waist while he held onto his towel for dear life. He gulped. She was so close to him… and she was vaguely familiar, somehow. Obviously she wasn’t Lady Cousland, but somehow, she wasn’t  _ not _ her. He closed his eyes, thinking of her, back in Ferelden… how close he had come to being with her, and sighed. 

“I just need to measure your leg length, to make sure I get pants long enough.” She blushed. “I can’t really measure the inseam right now, so I’ll try to estimate based on the outer measurement.” 

He blushed back, looked away, and quickly took sip from his mug. “BLECH!” His face twisted into a grotesque expression, turning to spit the noxious liquid into the sink.

Corinne started laughing uncontrollably. “Your… face…” she wheezed. “I could never have imagined that expression on you…” She laid her head on the counter, wiping away tears.

Alistair pouted for a moment. “...did I hear something about cream and sugar?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. 

She slid onto the floor, howling with laugher.   
…

Corinne wandered the men’s section of the Target.  _ This is too strange, _ she thought.  _ I’m not even in a relationship, but here I am, buying a man underwear. _ She shook her head.  _ I don’t _ **_think_ ** _ I’ve lost my mind… _ She had seen him, after all- the armor, the boots. Lord, those boots were disgusting.  _ I wouldn’t have dreamed those up,  _ she assured herself. 

She had found a couple pairs of jeans and a pair of cheap sneakers at the Goodwill, but there were some things she either couldn’t find there, or just wouldn’t force him to wear used- like underwear.  _ I wonder how he’ll amuse himself while I’m gone, _ she wondered.  _ I just hope he doesn’t destroy the house… at least, not more than it already is. _

She stopped suddenly and looked down at her phone, considering for a moment whether or not to call someone. Would anyone even believe her, or would they just  think she had lost her mind ? She knew she never would have believed it herself- she still almost didn’t, even now. She shook her head and went back to her search.

...

Alistair laid on the bed, listening to the last of the pattering rain. The storm had nearly passed, but he was still in this peculiar place. He was wracking his brain trying to comprehend what the young woman calling herself Corinne had told him _. Ferelden… isn’t real? _ He shook his head. But  _ he _ was from Ferelden; and if he was real, then Ferelden must also be real. And that meant that the Blight was still a threat. He frowned _. But how in the name of the Maker do I get back, when I don’t know how I got here in the first place? _ He sighed and closed his eyes, images of his Lady Cousland swimming across his mind.

He got up and strode to the front door, determined to survey his surroundings.  _ Perhaps outside will look more familiar than… this.  _ He turned the handle and pulled slowly, just opening it a crack.  _ I suppose even in this place, a man in nothing but a towel would be considered indecent. _

He saw strange buildings made of metal; the ground was black and smooth, except for little plots of grass and pots of flowers between the buildings. An oddly dressed woman was walking by with a tiny, furry creature tied to the end of a rope. It appeared somewhat dog-like, although it might have more closely resembled a rodent. The creature made a yapping sound in his direction, and he quickly shut the door before drawing more attention to himself. He sighed; the young lady had been telling the truth.  _ This is a strange place, indeed,  _ he thought to himself gloomily.  _ How did I get here? And more importantly, how can I get home? _

And what of the other things she had told him? About being the identity behind the woman he loved? Because he did love her: more than he had thought possible, in fact. The thought that he might never see her again made his heart ache. And if this stranger who shared her name had also shared in those intimate moments, however unwittingly... He shook his head again. Could that even be possible? 

_ Look at your situation now, _ he reminded himself.  _ I suppose anything is possible. _

… 

The front door opened, and Corinne called out, “Honey, I’m home!” before she realized there was no way Alistair would get the reference. She sighed.  _ This is hard _ . She set the bags of clothes on the counter.  _ Time to get a load of laundry ready; _ she wasn’t giving him used clothes to wear before they were extra-clean.  _ The new clothes, however… _ She ripped open the packaging as Alistair wandered out of the bedroom. “Hi there,” she said, timidly. He looked troubled, and it worried her. “I have some clothes for you, but some of them need to be cleaned first. But here!” She tossed the boxer briefs at him. He caught them easily. “At least you won’t have to worry about dropping your towel!” She smiled encouragingly. “How… how are you holding up?”

He shrugged. “I took a look outside… You were quite correct. This… is not Ferelden.” He scratched his head. “The buildings are so strange, and the people… I've just never felt so far from home.” 

No wonder he looked unhappy. “Well, I'm going to do everything I can to send you back. I promise.” She carried the clothes to the washing machine in the hallway and tossed them in. After starting the load, she turned around to see Alistair standing in nothing but the boxer briefs, looking very uncomfortable. _ Poor thing, _ she thought. She went to the bedroom and grabbed her bathrobe- it was quite short, and purple; but it was stretchy, and should provide some coverage, at least. “Here, why don't you wear this until the rest of the clothes are clean? It's not stylish or anything, but I think it might fit. I also have some T-shirts for you…” She walked back to the kitchen and started rummaging through the bags on the counter. 

Alistair pulled the robe over his arms; it was tight, but it fit. He tied the belt and sat down on the couch, chin on his hands.

“Oh, here they are.” She had found a couple of gamer shirts on clearance, along with a few plain solid colors. She knew he wouldn't understand the nerd culture references, but they were cheap.  _ And I might as well get to enjoy them, since they don't come in my size. _ She picked one out and walked to the living room.

“We’re going to need to run an errand, once your clothes are done,” she said, sitting down next to him on the couch. “That is, if you don't mind…” She looked over at him, but he continued to stare straight in front of him. “I don't really have the money for it, but the only thing I could think of to try to get you home is to buy another TV- but I couldn’t carry it by myself.” She shrugged. “At the very least, I’ll be able to show you what I’ve been talking about, and you can see Ferelden…”  _ I wonder if that will help, or just make him more depressed?  _ She paused, looking at him apprehensively. “Are you all right? You're very quiet.”

Alistair finally looked at her. “Hmm?” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about them, that’s all. I wish I had some idea of what I should be doing right now.” He looked down at his hands. “I feel so powerless…” He trailed off.

Corinne felt the urge to hug him, or hold his hand; something, anything, to try to make him feel better.  _ That would probably be awkward, though… Nobody ever hugs each other in Dragon Age, do they? _ She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry; is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head. “You have been very generous already. More than I deserve, considering the situation.” 

“What do you mean?” 

He looked at her and smiled softly. “Well, a strange man appears in your home, destroying part of the house in the process, and what do you do? You feed him, clothe him, and then apologize for being so kind. It seems really unfair to you, my lady. I am in your debt.”

“Well, to be fair, you’re not really a stranger to me,” she corrected him. “I’ve known  _ you _ for years, by now. And we were… pretty close,” she said, blushing. “I just- I hate to see you in pain, I always have.”  _ Crap, why do I always have to be so awkward? _

He swallowed. “Yes, so you said.” He thought for a moment. “What do you remember? From the time we… spent together?” 

She looked at him, surprised.  _ Is he testing me? To prove that I’m really her? _ “Well… we had been through a lot…” She thought for a moment. She didn’t want to use the conversation from last night that that hadn’t had the chance to finish;  _ although I know how it ends. _ She cleared her throat, thinking quickly. “Do you remember the time you told me you were raised by wild dogs? Flying ones… or when you said you’ve never ‘licked a lamppost in winter’?” She chuckled _.  _ “But I think one of the most memorable moments was when you gave me the rose you picked in Lothering.” She smiled, reminiscing. “You were very sweet, and nervous, which was… uh, very endearing.” She blushed, catching herself.  _ I just _ **_had_ ** _ to talk about something romantic, didn’t I? _ She stopped, not sure if she should go on; she was feeling awkward enough already. She looked down at her hands and found them shaking again.

His eyes widened. “You really were there, then.” He looked down, scratched his head. “I suppose I still thought it was impossible, somehow, even with what’s already happened.” He looked at her again. “So… ”  He cleared his throat. “What exactly… are your feelings towards me?” 

Her heart jumped into her throat. “I… ah… what do you mean?”  _ Crap, crap, crap…  _ She wasn’t mentally prepared for this conversation; this was real life, and there was no way to load a save if the conversation went awry.  _ That’s the only way Alistair could have ever fall in love with me… in real life, I’m useless. _

He looked her in the eye, one eyebrow raised. “I’m fairly certain you know what I mean,” he said, and cleared his throat again. “Do you… feel the same way as Corinne- I mean, the Lady Cousland? Or… am I still just fooling myself?” He held her eyes, waiting.

_ Oh, lord, _ she thought, her heart racing _. Come on, Corinne. You can do this. _ She gulped. “I… have always had feelings for you,” she admitted, the blood rushing to her face. “But… you were a character in a game, not a real person, before…” 

“And now?”

“Well, I… I suppose I still do. But, unfortunately for me… you don’t know me. At least not  _ this _ me, or even this world.” She winced. “I’m afraid that you won’t feel the same way about me, and even if you did… you still have to get back to Thedas to end the Blight.”  _ Well, I said it… better to be honest, right? _

He nodded. “I suppose the next question I have to ask is…” He looked down, somewhat ashamed. “Did you somehow bring me here because of your feelings for me?” 

Her eyes grew wide. “Did I… what?” She was dumbfounded. “I told you, I have no idea how this happened. There’s no magic here; I couldn’t possibly have brought you…”  _ He thinks I’m lying to him? How can he think that? _

“That’s what you said, and I want to believe you,” he said ruefully. “But… I must ask.”

Corinne’s heart sank. She understood his point; but it hurt. “I’ve done everything I can to help you…” she mumbled. She shook her head. The washing machine buzzed, and she jumped up from the couch to switch it over to the dryer.  _ The sooner I can get him back to Ferelden, the better… this is going to be more painful than I anticipated. _

He caught her by the hand; her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t turn to face him. “Listen: I’m truly sorry, but I must be careful. I am still grateful for everything you’ve done. Please, don’t take this as a personal attack.” He released her, and looked away, continuing, “But… you’re right. I don’t know you. Not yet.” 

She walked to the hallway in silence, switched the laundry, and started the dryer. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were stinging as she fought back tears.  _ This is why real life sucks, _ she thought, tucking her hair behind her ear.  _ And why I only date in video games, anymore. _ She took a deep breath, tried to compose herself, and turned around. “Well, after this comes out of the dryer, we can go get a TV, and you can see things for yourself.”  _ And you’ll see I’ve been telling the truth. Or maybe it will just suck you right back into the game. Fine by me.  _ “I’ll just… I’m going to… go do something. In the bedroom,” her voice wavered. She wanted to be anywhere but here in this room right now. If she could have melted into the floor, she would have gratefully done so.

Alistair looked pained. “I’m truly sorry for… I- I really didn’t mean to offend you… I sound like a dreadful person, don’t I?” He looked at her imploringly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. But you can at least understand  _ why _ I had to ask, can’t you?”

She sighed. “I suppose…” Her phone started vibrating in her back pocket, and she pulled it out to find her mother was calling. “Listen, I’ll be right back.” She didn’t feel like explaining how phones worked at the moment. She walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, struggling to regain her composure. “Hi, mom… yes, I’m fine…”

…

Alistair sat alone on the couch, still wearing the purple bathrobe, waiting.  _ That went quite well, didn’t it? _ He sighed and put his head in his hands.  _ I’ve never been good at talking to women- I always manage to put my foot in my mouth… And after she’s been so kind to me, too. What was I thinking?  _ He had backed her into a corner and forced her to admit her feelings for him, and then accused her of bringing him here vindictively; _ I very likely humiliated her just now _ , he realized. He sighed again.

She was quite lovely, similar to his own Corinne, though obviously not the same. And while he knew his concerns were well-founded, he had already found himself trusting her instinctively. She was so earnest, and seemed to be an honest, caring person.  _ But I’ve known her less than a day, _ he reminded himself.  _ I cannot assume that she is trustworthy, or has my interests at heart. I still don’t have enough evidence to make a judgment. _ But remembering the look on her face, he knew that she was deeply hurt by his allegation.  _ I don’t know if she can forgive me… _

He got up, walked to the tall, black appliance in the kitchen. He’d seen her pulling food out of there this morning, and wondered if he could find something to eat. He was constantly hungry, especially when he had a guilty conscience; he’d had nothing since breakfast, and that was hours ago. He opened it slightly; cold air wafted out. He opened the door and saw… nothing that looked like food, really. Strange jars, clear bags with foreign-looking items inside. He peered around, moved some containers to the side, and saw something familiar:  _ Cheese! _ He grabbed it, a large wedge, and closed the door. He looked around excitedly for a knife, and saw some handles sticking out of a block of wood. He pulled several out before deciding on one, and set the cheese on the counter. He cut off a few chunks and carried them to the couch, leaving the rest. As he chewed, he mulled over the situation. 

_ I certainly don’t want to alienate the only ally I have, _ he thought. He knew he wouldn’t stand a chance of getting home on his own. Out of the two of them, she was the one who had even a slight idea of where to begin, although he couldn’t understand it as of yet. He heard a loud buzzing sound come from the strange machine the clothes were in, and walked towards it, wiping his hands on the bathrobe. He pulled the handle on the front, and a pile of material fell onto the floor. He picked up a pair of pants, warm in his hands, and pulled them on. They fit somewhat snugly, but they were comfortable. He took off the robe, pulled on the shirt Corinne had left sitting on the couch _. I suppose this is what men wear in this world, _ with relief. It wasn’t too terribly different from clothing in Denerim, other than the tighter fit; and the material was soft, far more comfortable than what he was used to.

Corinne stepped out of the bedroom and froze for a moment on seeing Alistair in modern attire. He looked down, suddenly self-conscious. “Hello,” he said cautiously. 

“...Hi.” She cleared her throat and walked past him towards the kitchen. “Looks like you’re ready to go get a TV.” She saw the cheese on the counter; she smiled, then couldn’t contain a giggle. “Really, Alistair? You raided my cheese?” 

He felt a rush of relief. “Well, I did say I have a love of fine cheeses….” 

“And a minor obsession with your hair, but I haven’t seen evidence of that yet,” she smirked, putting the cheese back in the fridge.

“Oh no?” He ran his hand through his hair. “And I worked so hard on it this morning, too.” 

She shook her head. “All right, all right. You still hungry? Want me to fix you something?”

“Thank you, but no. Let’s get moving… and, by the way,” he shuffled his feet, looking down. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for questioning your intentions before. I can tell what kind of person you are; I shouldn’t have accused you of wrongdoing. I don’t deserve all the help you’ve given me, especially now; but I do hope that I can repay you somehow.” He looked at her and smiled apologetically. 

Corinne smiled back, a little sadly. “Well, I… appreciate your apology.” She grabbed the sneakers she’d bought for him and dug a pair of socks out of a package on the counter. “Just put these on and we’ll head out.” 

…

As Corinne drove towards Target for the second time today, she found herself being unexpectedly entertained; Alistair had his nose pressed to the glass of the car window, and had a question about  _ everything _ outside. The vehicles, tall glass buildings, and airplanes overhead were mystifying to him. She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake, bringing him outside this soon; but this morning while shopping, she had thought that he might at least appreciate a small glimpse into this world before hopefully finding a way back to his own. 

_ Maybe we can get some ice cream after,  _ she thought excitedly, then shook her head; that would turn it into a date, wouldn’t it? But after their conversation, she was resigned to the fact that she’d been right all along _. A guy like him would never want to be with a girl like me,  _ she chided herself again.

“So, tell me more about these ‘cars,’” he said eagerly. “How fast are we going? How fast  _ can _ we go? It certainly feels like we’re moving very fast!” 

Corinne couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, because of the traffic, we’re only doing about 55 miles an hour. This car tops out at 120, but there are a lot of cars that go even faster.” 

“I’m not sure I know how far a mile is, but this is just incredible!” His excitement was endearing, and he was firing off questions more quickly than she could answer them. She tried to keep her emotions on a tight leash, but it was impossible;  _ he’s just so adorable… _

“OK, Alistair, we’re here,” she said, parking the car. She turned to him seriously. “I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I’m going to need you to keep the excitement level to a minimum. Be bored, even. We need to keep a low profile.” She watched him, still staring out the window. Goodness, he was handsome, even in regular old jeans and a t-shirt. He looked over at her and grinned.  _ Will my heart ever stop fluttering when he looks at me?  _

“Youuuuuuu’ve got it!” he winked. “No problem. Boredom is my middle name.” She shook her head, trying to suppress her amusement, but to no avail. She grinned back at him.

They got out of the car and walked towards the glass doors; he inhaled sharply as they opened automatically. “Oh. Right. Yes, of course.” She smiled and shook her head. 

“Listen, I want to grab one other thing since we’re here,” she said.  _ I want some damn ice cream, I don’t even care anymore…  _

“Of course, my dear,” he quipped. “Anything you need.” 

She melted. Again.  _ Dammit, Alistair,  _ she thought. She took off her sunglasses and ran her fingers through her hair. “OK, this way to electronics.” He walked beside her down the aisles, his eyes darting to and fro, trying to take in everything he was seeing at once. She could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he was restraining himself.  _ Thank goodness. _

They finally reached electronics, and she went straight to the model she had selected this morning.  _ I really shouldn’t be spending this much, _ she thought,  _ but really… after he leaves, what else am I going to do to relax?  _ She wondered suddenly if she would ever be able play Dragon Age again;  _ but what’s the point, after meeting the real thing? _

“This one, ‘dear,’” she said, smirking. “I’m sorry, it’s a bit on the hefty side…” 

“Fear not, my lady,” he said, and lifted the box onto his shoulder. “Where to now, my fearless leader?” He grinned at her and winked; he was really enjoying the excursion. She was glad that she had brought him after all.

“This way,” she beckoned flirtatiously. _You want to play? Fine, prince charming. Let’s do this._ For some reason, with him out of his element, she was starting to feel empowered. She led the way, strutting in front of him, her hips swinging. One good thing about being on a dance team; she was good at walking seductively. _I’m glad I decided to wear heels… and my favorite jeans._ She looked over her shoulder and caught his eyes following her hips. He looked up and realized she had seen him staring; he gulped, and pretended to look with great interest at the video game controllers to his left. But she knew that she still had his attention. _Ha! In your face, buddy._ She blew him a kiss and smirked.

They reached the frozen foods section, and she stood for a moment, leaning one hand on the glass door, surveying the options. She didn’t want to risk anything with peanut butter or walnuts, in case he had some unknown allergy _ … Hmmmm. _ “Do you like chocolate?” she asked suddenly.

“Well, of course, doesn’t everyone?” he replied automatically.

She laughed. “All right, then, let’s do chocolate… and cookie dough.” Cookie dough was her favorite. 

“Is that it, then?” he asked, a bit disappointed. "Are we done shopping?"

“Yes, this is all we needed. Let’s go home, ‘sweetheart.’” She winked, and he playfully scowled back at her. 

....

When they got back to the house, Corinne had the task of trying to set up the TV: the bane of her gaming existence. “I swear, they make every model more and more difficult to connect,” she muttered around the wires hanging out of her mouth. 

Alistair watched her, smiling absently.  _ This woman… she’s a bit of a mystery.  _ Her confidently flirtatious behavior at the shop had caught him completely off guard. She had seemed so timid before, almost bashful. But now, watching her traverse this nest of cords and connections, unaffected by his eyes following her every move; she seemed almost a different person. She leaned over the entertainment center, reaching for the back of the TV; her back arched, her feet lifted off the ground… her lovely shape prominently protruding… He coughed, looked away. He shouldn’t be looking at her like that.  _ I’m waiting for Corinne,  _ he reminded himself.  _ Well, the other Corinne… _ He shook his head and looked back at her backside.  _ I’m a bad, bad man. _ He sighed. “Do you need some assistance, my lady?” 

“No, no.” her voice was muffled. “I can do this… I swear, I’ve done this before…” 

“You have interesting technique, it appears,” he said blandly. 

She peered out from behind the equipment over her glasses. “Enjoying the view?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Mmm-hmmm,” he answered automatically, then caught himself. “I mean, n- _ no _ ! I mean… I’m a gentleman, what are you implying?” His voice cracked a bit, and his face reddened. She had caught him again. She giggled. “That was a wicked laugh, dear lady.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. 

“I know.” She grinned, then went back to connecting the wires. “There! I think we’ve got it this time!” 

She extracted herself from the mess of wires and ran to the coffee table. She picked up the remote, turned on the TV and started clicking through the options. “No… no… aha! Yes!” She jumped up and down in celebration; the Xbox was loading on the screen. “I have no idea how the Xbox didn’t get fried along with the TV, but thank goodness it didn’t… I couldn’t afford another of both.” She turned on the Xbox controller and selected the game, about to start it up. 

Alistair took the controller gently out of her hands and set it on the coffee table. She looked at him, confused. “What’s…?” 

He took her hands and looked into her face. “I …thought we could wait a bit, before …you know…seeing what happens,” he said quietly. “You still haven’t shown me ‘ice cream,’ or ‘movies’… and if doing this sends me back immediately…” he trailed off, swallowed. 

Corinne was taken aback. “I… I mean, of course,” she stammered. “I would love to share those things with you, let me… let me get things set up.” She gently pulled her hands out of his and walked to the shelves of movies and games. “So… a movie, huh?” She ran a finger along the titles in her collection. “Oooh, I have the perfect one: The Princess Bride!” 

He looked skeptical. “That sounds rather, uh, girlish,” he admitted.

She pulled it from the shelf. “Don’t worry, it’s not what it sounds like. I promise.” She smiled up at him. “It’s one of my favorites, and I think the setting will be more familiar for you. I doubt that a sci-fi movie would really make sense to you,” she laughed. 

Alistair had no idea what that meant, so he assumed she was correct. “Well, you haven’t led me astray thus far, so I’ll trust your judgment.”  _ Well, not _ **_really_ ** _ astray…  _ His mind wandered for a moment. 

“Alistair?” 

“Hmmm?” He brought himself back into the moment. “Something I can help you with, my dear?” 

She smiled. “I just asked if you wanted to try some of each flavor.” He looked at her blankly. “Of the ice cream?”

“Oh! Yes! That would be lovely, thank you.” 

She brought a bowl for each of them from the kitchen, handed them off to Alistair, and plopped the DVD into the tray. Alistair sat down and she settled in next to him; close, but not  _ too _ close. She pulled her feet up on the couch next to her and pushed play. 

…

Seeing Alistair watch a movie for the first time was even more entertaining than taking him to Target. He was enraptured, sucked into the story with a childlike wonder; she found herself falling even harder for him, despite her best efforts.  _ I never could resist you, Alistair…  _ She leaned her head on his shoulder; he stiffened, then relaxed, and he rested his hand on hers. Her heart was pounding.  _ We’re just watching a movie,  _ she reminded herself.  _ It’s not like anything more than this is ever going to happen between us… after this, he’s going home- as long as the plan works, anyway.  _ She was grateful, at least, for the opportunity to experience this little taste of being with him after being in love with his character for so long.  _ But after this, how can I ever date again? There’s no one like him… there can’t be. _

The end credits started to roll, and he sighed happily. “That. Was. Great,” he said, beaming. “I had no idea that watching other people’s lives could be so entertaining!” 

She laughed. “Well, this was a fictional story. Those were actors; that’s not who they are in real life.” 

His brow furrowed. “So, is it like… when you were watching me?” 

“Not quite… these were actors, playing characters; you and the rest of the people in the game were… animated.” She wasn’t sure how to explain CGI to a man who had just seen a movie for the first time. “They aren’t played by actors.”  _ Except their voices… but that's just going to be more confusing.  _ “Also, in a movie you just watch, where in a game, you make the decisions that move the story along.”

He nodded slowly. “I have another question.” He looked away, then asked, “What kind of decisions can you make? Can you decide… whether or not you have feelings for someone? Or… if you have feelings for a different person?” 

“Well, yes. Several characters are romanceable; you, Zevran, Leliana, Morrigan…”

He looked surprised. “And have you ever… 'romanced’ any of them?” 

She blushed. “Well…I did intend to, but…” 

“But what?” His eyes were locked on hers.

“Well, as soon as I start talking to you, I just… can’t. I flirted briefly with Zevran, but…I’ve never been able to bring myself to actually  _ be _ with someone other than you.”  _ Well, at least not that I didn’t load a previous save; but does that really count?  _ She decided it didn’t.

He was smiling; it was a different kind of smile than before. He leaned in closer to her. “I knew I had you fooled,” he said, grinning, and gently kissed her. 

Her mind exploded in fireworks, a thousand thoughts and questions swirling, but she just reached her hand up to his face, ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him in closer, as close as possible… She never wanted this moment to end. When he finally pulled away, she was breathless but exhilarated. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I just wanted to thank you, for everything, in case we don't have the chance later on,” he murmured. 

“I'm glad you threw caution to the wind, at least once,” she replied softly, and smiled. She gazed at him for a moment, then asked more seriously, “Does that mean …it's time?” 

He nodded slowly, his face becoming somber. “We'll see what happens.” 

She nodded.  _ Whatever happens is what's meant to be, I guess.  _ She laid her head on his shoulder for one more moment, and he put his arm around her. She reached for the Xbox controller. He cupped her face in his hand and turned her to face him, rubbing her cheek with his thumb as the game loaded up.

She selected ‘Resume.’

 


End file.
